Sometimes I can feel my darkness, like a fragment of nerves inside of me somewhere, sparking my hate. I picture it moving throughout my body, the other cells letting it pass by, yielding to its master. It moves to my tongue when it wants me to spew beautiful, damaging words, it moves to my hands when it wants me to feel all it can take away, and it moves to my eyes to blind me from truly seeing the destruction Ive done.

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Themes

  • Death — Contemplations on mortality, loss, and the legacy we leave
  • Life — Reflections on the meaning, challenges, and beauty of life
  • Love — Quotes exploring romantic love, compassion, and human connection
  • Sadness — Navigating grief, melancholy, and emotional depth

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